


Plot Twist

by Vanyel



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: also im too lazy to go find translations again, and sniper's smarter than spy thinks, excuse the google translate french, so ill just throw them in at the end, spy's a dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 01:47:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6883975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanyel/pseuds/Vanyel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spy runs an errand.</p><p>Based on the comic by soghekihei-sama.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plot Twist

“Hey, Spy?” Sniper hesitantly walked up to the Frenchman, who raised an eyebrow and braced himself for the request. He was always “bloody spoi” or “spook” until Sniper wanted something from him. “Hey, uh, moi van broke down, and I know you said you were heading into town today, so, uh, d’you mind picking me up a box of crackers while you’re out? Promise I’ll pay ya back.”

Oh, he just wanted an errand boy while his filthy house-on-wheels was temporarily immobile? Spy was about to turn him down with a sneer, but hesitated, trying to think of a way to use this. After a moment, a wonderfully horrible idea came to the Spy, and he smiled magnanimously. “But of course, monsieur bushman,” he chuckled, arms wide as he gave an exaggerated bow. “Anything for a dear teammate. Je pense que cette petite faveur va payer pour lui-même.” The Frenchman walked off, leaving behind one confused and slightly suspicious Sniper.  
————  
Spy silently walked up to Sniper from behind, tapping him on his shoulder and grinning at the little yelp of surprise the other man gave. “I got your crackers, monsieur,” he smiled, handing over an orange box of plain crackers. “And no need to pay me back, the cigarette tax was lowered, so I had a little extra money. Consider it a gift.”

The bushman took the box, surprised but not unhappily so. “Really? That’s awfully nice of ya. Thanks, spook.” He smiled, walking off down the hall whistling softly. After a moment, Spy turned away, chuckling to himself.

“Imbécile,” he snickered softly. “Ce n’est pas tes collations. Ce sont des cafards. Amuse-toi bien.”

“OI!”

The shout made the Spy jump a foot in the air, and he turned back to see Sniper staring angrily at him from the entrance to his room, eyes wide. He threw the box of crackers back at the Frenchmen with a snarl. “J’ai entendu ça, connard!”

The sound of fluent and properly accented French coming from Sniper’s mouth made Spy reel back against the wall with a loud and undignified squawk, barely noticing the box smacking against his cheek and falling to the floor, the aforementioned cockroaches beginning to spill out across the ground. His jaw hung open for a moment before he shook his head to clear it. “Tu… parle français?”

“Ouais, j'y ai vécu pendant un an et demi,” Sniper returned, stalking back over to glare down at the stunned Spy. “Qu'est-ce que le genre de plaisanterie de l'enfer était-ce? Où avez-vous même obtenir ce nombre de cafards, vous ponce sanglante?” He slammed one hand against the wall, leaning over him. “Je vais sur les pistes de cigarettes pour vous deux fois par mois, et une fois que je vous demande un peu de faveur parce que le moteur de ma camionnette a soufflé, vous tirez ce genre de merde?”

Spy’s mouth worked, but no sound came out. This was too much to deal with - the uncultured, van-dwelling, piss-throwing bushman spoke French? “I-I-I…….” He reached into his jacket, shakily pulling out the bag of crackers he had removed from the box and pressing them into Sniper’s free hand. “H-h-here. Desolee.” Spy cloaked and ran off, leaving Sniper scowling, standing in a pile of cockroaches and muttering to himself about “bloody French pranksters.”

A few hours later, Sniper heard a knock on his camper door. Pulling it open, he saw nothing except a book lying on the ground. It was an old, dog-eared copy of L'étranger. Confused, Sniper opened it, and a small note lay inside the front cover, written in an elegant cursive that could only belong to Spy.  
 _Je me en excuse pour le petit truc que je essayé de jouer plus tôt. Je ne ai jamais deviné un homme tel que vous aviez la culture pour survivre en France depuis plus d'un an. Je ne sais pas si vous avez lu cela, mais étant donné que je sais maintenant que vous pouvez le lire dans la langue originale, je pensé que tu pourrais en profiter._  
Sniper looked at the book, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Peut-être que vous n'êtes pas une telle douleur après tout.”

**Author's Note:**

> “Je pense que cette petite faveur va payer pour lui-même” - “I think that this little favor will pay for itself.”  
> “Imbécile. Ce n’est pas tes collations. Ce sont des cafards. Amuse-toi bien.” - “Fool. Those aren’t your snacks. Those are cockroaches. Have fun.”  
> “J’ai entendu ça, connard!” - “I heard that, asshole!”  
> “Tu… parle français?” - “You…speak French?”  
> “Ouais, j'y ai vécu pendant un an et demi. Qu'est-ce que le genre de plaisanterie de l'enfer était-ce? Où avez-vous même obtenir ce nombre de cafards, vous ponce sanglante? Je vais sur les pistes de cigarettes pour vous deux fois par mois, et une fois que je vous demande un peu de faveur parce que le moteur de ma camionnette a soufflé, vous tirez ce genre de merde?” - “Yeah, I lived there for a year and a half. What the hell kind of joke was that? Where did you even get these many cockroaches, you bloody ponce? I go on cigarette runs for you twice a month, and the one time I ask you for a small favor because my truck’s engine blew out, you pull this kind of crap?”  
> “Je me en excuse pour le petit truc que je essayé de jouer plus tôt. Je ne ai jamais deviné un homme tel que vous aviez la culture pour survivre en France depuis plus d'un an. Je ne sais pas si vous avez lu cela, mais étant donné que je sais maintenant que vous pouvez le lire dans la langue originale, je pensé que tu pourrais en profiter.” - “I apologize for the little trick I tried to play earlier. I never figured a man like you had the culture to survive in France for more than a year. I don’t know if you’ve read this, but since I now know that you can read it in the original language, I thought you might enjoy it.”  
> “Peut-être que vous n'êtes pas une telle douleur après tout.” - “Maybe you’re not such a pain after all.”


End file.
